The next morning, Katha woke up with the chirping of birds. As she sat on the bed, stretching her arms, she noticed that Mrityunjay was no longer in bed. She was confused since she didn’t expect him to wake earlier than her.
Katha thought he might be in the bathing area, but he was nowhere in the chamber. She called an attendee to ask, “Where is Maharaj?”
“Maharaj is in the training area, Maharani-sa.”
Katha nodded and told the attendees to prepare her bath.
After a while, Katha took a proper royal bath with the help of the attendees and then went on to get dressed. After she wore her lehenga and blouse, the attendees began to dry her hair with Sambrani Dhoop.
She sat there getting her hair dried, and Alta painted on her hands.
While waiting for the Alta to dry up, Katha heard Mrityunjay’s footsteps and signalled the attendees to leave. Mrityunjay entered the moment they left.
He sat near Katha’s feet, on the ground. This shocked Katha a little, but she composed herself.
“Looks like you are almost dressed, only the jewelry remains.”
Katha smiled and nodded while Mrityunjay continued,
“Hum soch rahe the ki saamna karte hain, talwaarbazi ka, jo jeeta woh jo chahe maang sakta hai.”
“You know, I was thinking that maybe we should have a combat, a sword match. Whoever wins gets whatever they desire.”
Katha smirked at him and said,
“Aap humse saamna karna chahte hain? Jo jeetega woh kuch bhi maang sakta hai? Hukum, seekh jaiye! Aisa koi sauda kabhi nhi karna chahiye jo jeeta na jaa sake.”
“You want to have a combat with me? The winner gets whatever they desire? Hukum, please! Learn something; never make a deal you can’t win.”
Mrityunjay narrowed his eyes, “You think I can’t win against you? Come to the training area, Maharani-sa, we’ll see there.”
Katha smiled and started getting ready after he left.
The moment Mrityunjay saw her in the training area, he was shocked, yet amused. Katha was wearing a white kurta with a white dhoti, all from Mrityunjay’s wardrobe. Her hair tied in a bun, she smiled at him and took out her sword.
Without a word, the match started with the soldiers and a few ministers watching intently, waiting for their King to win.
They began with circling, light on their feet, each testing the other’s posture. Mrityunjay struck first, a quick and forceful diagonal slash from the right shoulder. Katha averted effortlessly, twisting her wrist to redirect his blade and countering with a sharp jab towards his midriff. He stepped back, laughing lightly.
“You’ve been practicing,” he said, raising his sword again.
Katha didn’t respond. Her focus was razor-sharp.
She showered strikes, a sharp horizontal cut aimed at his ribs, followed by a spin and upward thrust. Mrityunjay blocked the first, ducked the second, and fought back with a swift low sweep targeting her ankles. She jumped, twisting mid-air, and landed gracefully.
As the combat intensified, their blades sang a rhythmic song. Mrityunjay’s technique was refined, with perfect angles and measured footwork, whereas Katha’s style was more fluid and adaptive. She absorbed, adjusted, and responded, her training under Guruji evident in every move she made.
Mrityunjay managed to corner her momentarily, sword pressing down against hers. Their faces were inches apart.
Using his proximity against him, Katha stepped sideways, letting his momentum carry forward. With a smooth pivot, she slid behind him, striking his sword away with a powerful block and immediately delivering a backward elbow that made him stagger.
Before he could recover, she twirled, ducked low, and with one fluid motion swept his legs out from under him. Mrityunjay hit the ground but rolled away, springing up again.
Now, he was serious.
Their swords clashed again, this time faster, harder. Mrityunjay attempted a feint, raising his sword for a high strike, but Katha didn’t fall for it. She dropped low, using the hilt of her sword to push his balance off, and stepped into his blind spot.
With a sudden shift in stance, Katha performed a move he had never seen, a double-spin, using the torque to amplify her final swing. The tip of her sword stopped mere millimeters from the side of his neck.
Frozen.
His eyes widened in both surprise and pride.
She was calm, composed, the blade unwavering.
“You… tricked me,” he said with a slow exhale.
“I adapted,” she replied.
Mrityunjay raised his hands in surrender. “Victory is yours, Maharani-sa.”
She sheathed her sword with a satisfied smile. “And now you know, never underestimate your queen, Hukum. I didn’t go ahead because you are my husband, but if I were in a fight with an enemy, he would be dead by now.”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he approached her. “Remind me never to spar with you without armor again.”
“Deal,” she said, smiling at him.
Suddenly, loud cheers erupted around them, making them look at the audience that witnessed their combat. Katha smiled, and Mrityunjay was not feeling bad either; he was proud.
After a while, the couple reached their chamber. As Katha went to the dressing area, Mrityunjay followed her, which confused her. She raised her eyebrows, and he asked,
“Why are you wearing my clothes? It’s not like I mind, but any particular agenda? Showcasing dominance? Or maybe that you are comfortable with me?”
She smiled and said, “I am comfortable with you, Hukum, but neither did I wear your clothes to show dominance, nor to show my comfort with you. The real reason is that I didn’t bring my training clothes with me after marriage, so I wore yours as fighting in a lehenga isn’t something I prefer.”
Mrityunjay smiled and hugged her, “Don’t worry, you can wear my clothes whenever you want. As for training clothes, we’ll get them made for you however you like.”
Katha smiled and then said, her voice cute and complaining, “As much as I love the cozy hugs you provide, you and I are covered with sweat to a great extent, how about we get freshened first and then hug? I don’t feel good with being sweaty.”
Mrityunjay laughed out loud and parted. The couple took a bath one by one and got dressed.
After a while, the couple had breakfast. Later, Mrityunjay went to the court, while Katha wrote a letter to Abhay. As she gave the letter to the messenger, he said,
“Kshama Maharani-sa, parantu jab tak Maharaj aapka likha sandesh padhkar humein aadesh nhi de dete, hum iss sandesh ko kahin nhi le ja sakte.”
“Apologies, Maharani-sa, but until Maharaj reads your letter and permits me, I can’t take your letter anywhere.”
Although confused, Katha nodded and waited for Mrityunjay to come back.
While she was waiting, Devika entered her chamber in the evening hurriedly, she was on the verge of crying. Katha made her sit on the couch,
“What’s wrong, Devika?”
“Katha, my husband married that woman and has sent me a letter that he doesn’t want me to go back to him as there is no place for me in his home and heart.”
Devika said while crying badly while hugging Katha. A sudden wave of anger rushed through her..
How could he do that?
How could he not think about Devika’s feelings?
Katha tried to console her, but she was completely broken. Her face had turned red due to constant crying. Her best friend since childhood, the one who used to console her whenever she was feeling weak, was weak herself, and there was nothing that came into Katha’s mind that she could do.
She knew that it was good that she was out of that relationship, which was ruining her sanity, but it was problematic, too. Being left by her husband, Devika would lose her respect in society, as it means that a woman is not worth living, and the ‘title’ that the people would use for her.
‘Chhodi hui aurat’
‘Abandoned Woman’
Katha held Devika’s face in her hands and wiped her tears,
“I know he did wrong to you, but calm down first. I will do something about it, I promise.”
“What can you even do, Katha? There are no laws for it. Even Kundangarh’s laws say that if a woman is left by her husband, she must leave everything. How will I live alone? How will I be able to survive knowing the way I was used and thrown away? What will I do, Katha?”
The ladies stood up from the couch the moment they heard Mrityunjay’s entrance announcement. Devika wiped her tears in a hurry and left after greeting him.
Katha came out of her thoughts when she felt a touch on her shoulder,
“What’s wrong? Is something bothering you? What was your maid saying?”
“She is not my maid, Hukum, she is my best friend, more like a sister to me,” she replied, her tone determined.
“Okay, but if there’s something wrong, please tell me. You look quite sad, my love.”
“It’s just… Hukum, Devika’s husband, has married the woman he had an affair with, and today he sent her a letter that he doesn’t want her to come back. How can men change like this? She loved him with everything, gave him everything she had, and he stabbed her self-respect. No woman deserves this, definitely not a girl like Devika who loves unconditionally. She will lose respect in society, she is just twenty-two, what will she do?”
